Mental changes

I have noticed a major change in my attitude over the last couple of weeks. It’s possible that the extra few days away from chemo assisted, but I’m very happy with my progress. “Progress” is my word of choice today. I actually feel like I’m making progress.

On October 4, I started a journey towards 17 chemo cycles and an unspecified amount of radiation. The entire process was projected to be 8-10 months. It seemed insurmountable. Well, surmountable in a way that no one would want to surmount.

A couple of months ago, I set an event on The Simpsons: Tapped Out game to “grow corn,” which would take 90 days. At the time, 90 days felt like an eternity. Now it’s down to 23 days and I’m excited because 23 days feels like nothing.

Today I did chemo cycle 10 of 17 and radiation dose 6 of 33. On the chemo front, I hit double digits! The real news, though, is my perspective shift. In my brain, I am no longer counting up how many cycles I’ve done, I’m counting down to no more chemo! I’m not even thinking about whether my radiation number is going up or if I’m counting it down because a month of radiation just doesn’t even feel significant to my timeline. Being in double digits, being more than halfway done with chemo, and starting radiation have all combined to make me feel like I’m just coasting to the finish line now instead of still climbing up the mountain.

I’ve noticed that what distracts me changes. When I first started, I played endless hours of Yahtzee on my iPad (thanks to Charles for making me download it during my first cycle). Then I watched comedy TV shows all day. This was followed by reading all day. Now I’m alternating between comedies and dramatic movies, video games, and comic books. I’m just going with the flow of interests with a “whatever passes the time” attitude. I just need to get through this so I can get on with the better times in my life.

Fun fact of the day: this little fella is a mere 2mg (3ml–really, go measure how much that is if you don’t know), but that’s the maximum dose because it is one tough S.O.B. Sure, I mock it by saying I eat chemo bigger than that for breakfast, but secretly I love what it’s doing to my cancer. It’s a case of “I kid, I kid. Why? Because I love.” I still think it looks funny, though, especially such a little guy having so many big boy warnings on it. (The “blocked” part is my medical record number.)

Please pray (or do whatever positive thing you do) for the family and friends of a young man named Randy, who passed away from Ewing’s Sarcoma this week. Randy is an inspirational figure and his infectious positivity proves that cancer only wins if the person lets it. I never had the good fortune of meeting Randy, but his mother is part of an online support group and I’ve followed his story. It’s now the part of the story that isn’t so easy to document: how all the lives he improved with his attitude and wisdom will go on to spread his positivity. I can’t fathom the hurt created by his loss so as an outsider I am choosing to focus solely on Randy’s continuing triumphant spirit.